Winds of Change
by west189
Summary: A humanized story. Meet Private, your average metahuman. Now, throw in three people he'd never imagine as anything but crazy. Journey with your favorite penguins as they find their youngest teammate and lose two you've only heard of but never met. "Not all that glitters is gold, Not all who wander are lost..." J.R.R. Tolkein. Learn how these words ring true all over again.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story. They belong to Nickelodeon and DreamWorks. Unless, of course, I explicitly say that I made up the character or fleshed out what was merely mentioned. **

**Warning: The life of this story depends on the amount of reviews I get. If not enough people review, this story will die. So, please review even if it's just to make a fluffy comment! Especially, if it's a fluffy comment! **

Winds of Change

_By West189_

Prologue

Private sighed as he lay down to sleep. It had been a long six months. This was the first time since the fated day of his joining the team that he actually had a bed to sleep in. Of course, joining the team wasn't simple. Nothing ever was with his teammates. He had never intended to meet them, let alone join them. He glanced across the room to the clock. 11:30. He couldn't remember the last time he had time to himself. It felt strange. Never once did he think that these strangers would become his friends.

"Private? Are you still awake?" a calm voice cut into the Briton's thoughts.

"Hullo, Kowalski. Yeah, I just can't sleep for some reason." Private glanced up to look at the Polish man standing in the doorway.

The older man laughed. "It's probably because you haven't had a mattress since when—July?"

"This'll be my first Christmas away from England…" Private said softly. Kowalski let it pass, but shifted slightly and didn't look at Private for a moment. Sitting up slowly, Private quietly asked, "So, what did you want me for?"

Kowalski was silent for a moment as he appraised the boy in front of him. Reflecting quietly, he had to admit that the Private didn't deserve to be called a boy any more than any on the team did, no matter how small and soft he looked. He had originally wondered what Skipper had seen in Private, but after all that their team had been through and what Private sacrificed for the four of them without their deserving it, Kowalski couldn't understand how they'd ever got along without him.

"Ummm, Kowalski?" Private asked worriedly, "Are you okay? You've been staring at me for the past two minutes…"

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine. Just making sure that you're settling in properly, but if you aren't going to sleep any time soon, I could use some help in my lab." Kowalski knew that this would get Private's attention. The younger had yet to receive the grand tour of their headquarters and had been extremely curious to see what all was in it.

Private beamed excitedly as he quickly jumped out of bed. He gasped loudly in pain from the quick movement. A second later he looked down and blushed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, allowing the bandages from the latest mission to show. There was that, and he still hadn't received a uniform, which meant he was still in the torn and burnt trousers Skipper had lent him.

Kowalski winced slightly as Private walked up to him. The last fight the team had been in had really taken a toll on the Briton, leaving his powers drained and giving him numerous injuries to nurse. Not that he outwardly complained. When it came to complaining over injuries, Private was as stalwart as Skipper was on a daily basis.

"So, where is your lab, exactly?" Private seemed quite cheerful despite his burns. _Private's so cheerful that he's begun to glow, _Kowalski mused. _I wonder if this is tied to his skills or if it's a secondary power…_

"It's this way. I see that your glowing hasn't been affected by this at all." Kowalski swiftly turned left while keeping a gentle grip on his friend's arm to prevent Private from getting lost.

"No, the glowing just happens. It's not something I can really control unless I concentrate fully. Is that why we're going to your lab?" Private didn't seem offended or nervous, rather he sounded more curious. Kowalski smiled slightly. Curious was good. Curious kept you alive.

"No, that's not why. Perhaps some other time. Right now, we've got a surprise for you." Kowalski refused to answer any further questions, and Private eventually fell silent." Noticing the boy's (no matter what he would always be considered a boy to Kowalski) eyes trying to pick up every detail in the hallway they were going through, Kowalski said, "You'll have plenty of time to admire the base when we have cleaning day in a few weeks."

Private blushed and was about to reply, but Kowalski had halted in front of a large metal door. Motioning for Private to open it, the scientist had difficulty hiding his grin.

Upon opening the door, Private was startled by the group of people shouting "SURPRISE!" Private's reply was to jump and yelp at the same time, causing almost everyone in the crowd to laugh.

"Looks like I have more one-on-one training to do with you than I thought." Skipper sounded serious, but his tone was light and easy-going. His tell-tale smirk was also present, causing Private to be unsure of the words.

"Umm, are you being serious, Skippah. Or are you joking?" Private's question caused everyone to snicker, and Skipper grinned widely.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Skipper swiftly dragged the boy further into the room, allowing Kowalski to enter as well. "Now for introductions! I'll even describe the people you know. A few may have gotten the wrong impression the first time 'round!"

"'ey! 'ou fogettin' u'fo'm! U'fo'm fust!" Rico interrupted in his raspy, grunting voice. He appeared with a poorly wrapped box, and he excitedly handed it to Private.

"A uniform? You're giving me a uniform?" Rico's excitement was mirrored in Private, who had begun to jump up and down before receiving the package.

"Of course we're giving you a uniform!" Kowalski exclaimed sharply.

"What kind of team would we be if we let you run around all day wearing nothing but an old pair of my pants and some bandages?" Skipper shook his head slowly, smirk still in place. "You're cute and naïve. Just like Manfredi and Johnson."

"Johnson wasn't that cute, Skippah! He had that weird-!" Rico covered his mouth to prevent Private from explaining.

"Would you please hurry this up? Some of us do sleep, you know."

"Which, Rico, is why I was doing introductions first. Private, don't open that until everyone but us has left." Skipper glared at the scarred man before returning to his original remarks. "Everyone this is Private. He's part of my team, so if anyone messes with him, you mess with us. Remember that. Especially if you have the heart to mess with the kid.

"Now, Get in a single file-line, and we'll introduce you as you leave!" No one bothered arguing with him since they were exhausted from staying up so late.

The first person up was a man of average height with short, unkempt auburn hair, a long face, and light brown eyes. The person behind him looked the same except that his hair was neat and dark brown. The second person spoke. "I am Mason, and this is my brother, Phil. I do believe we met when you fell onto our car. It's good to see you are in relatively decent shape. Good night." After quickly shaking hands with Private, the two departed.

Up next was a tall, thin man with bright pink hair and tan skin. His eyes were dark brown and a distinct way of talking. "Name's Pinky! I live with a bunch'a siblings, but I'm the only one worth talkin' to, Baby! You ever need to talk, just ring me up!" The man sauntered off through the door without any further comments.

Three tall, blonde women with blue eyes stepped up. The tallest wore a cowboy hat, abd her hair had a tinge of red to it. She was the one to speak. "Mah name's Darla, an' these ah mah gals, Becky 'n, 'Trina. Do not mess with us." With that the women stalked off, but glared at Rico before disappearing. Private looked at him quizzically, but Rico merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, it looks like I get to meet you! My name's Burt! It's great to meet you!" Burt was a large round man with giant ears that were far away from his head. He had grey hair, pale, wrinkly skin, and blue eyes. He had begun to talk about all manner of things until the people behind him started to yell at him. "Okay! I'm going, I'm going! Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Private!"

There were only three people besides the team left in the room. Two were large, and bulked up with muscles. Their accents were the most like a New Yorker's. "I'm Bada."

"And I'm Bing. If someone gives you trouble, we can take care of them—"

"Through our 'legitimate' business endeavors, and what-not." Both had dark grey eyes. Bada had dark grey hair, while Bing had light brown hair. They quickly left. Skipper's eyes narrowed as they left.

"Legitimate, my foot! You try and stay away from them Private. Those gorillas are bad news!" Skipper's stare was intense, so Private quickly nodded his head to appease his leader.

The last person scoffed. "Name's Joey. Stay outta my place, and we won't have any problems." After this warning Joey left. The Australian had seemed frustrated for some reason. He'd had sandy hair and light brown eyes. He was a respectable height and looked muscular.

"Finally! I thought they'd never leave!" Kowalski sounded exhausted. "I'm going to be cleaning my lab for weeks after this!"

"Kowalski, we'll all be cleaning your lab. We're the ones who set up the party and invited everyone." Skipper corrected, but he too looked tired. "But we'll be doing that tomorrow. In the meantime, it's time for Private to see his uniform!"

"Op'n it, op'n it!" Rico couldn't wait. Even Kowalski was watching expectantly.

Private took a deep breath. And ripped the wrappings off the box. He quietly took the lid off and gasped when he saw what was inside. On top was black mask. The eyes were covered with opaque lenses. Next to the mask was a pair of black fingerless gloves with an adjustable wrist strap. Beneath those were a white t-shirt and a black sleeve-less vest. A pair of black cargo pants were under those, and at the bottom was a black, hooded cloak that had white at the edge of the front. "These are all for me?" Tears were pricking Private's eyes as he softly stroked the uniform. "What are they made of? They're so soft!"

"It's a synthetic fiber of my own design. The softness is for comfort. It's also extremely resilient to most damage we'll be exposed to. It's nearly weightless, and it's structure means that it is highly insulating, which means you'll stay cool on even the hottest of days and warm in the coolest weather." Kowalski looked extremely proud of his work, and the other three couldn't help but admire the clothes.

"Of course, you will receive shoes, but it'll take a while to find some your size. You'll also receive a uniform for your normal, day-to-day activities. Also, here are some regulation pajamas, since you have none of your own." Skipper had pulled out a crisp pair while still wearing his smirk, which faded as he saw the tears start to fall from Private's eyes.

"Wuz wron'?" Rico rasped. This was supposed to be a happy occasion! Why would Private be crying?

"It's just… No one's ever been this good to me unless they were going to be mean to right after." Private had begun to shake, and his head faced downwards, the tears now falling freely to the ground. "A-And, I really like you g-guys, and I-I don't want this to be s-some big j-joke at my expense l-like most other g-good things ended up being!"

Skipper watched him cry a few seconds, his smirk no longer present. He reached out swiftly, and lifted the boy's head. "Private, look at me." His voice was quiet but solid. Private looked at his leader. "We are your friends. We'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Don't you trust me?"

Private's eyes widened. "Of course, more than anyone else!" Skipper grinned and released his face.

"Private, we're on your side, so if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, tell us!" Kowalski said, anger lacing his voice.

Rico nodded in agreement, "Bad pers'n h't Pr'v't, we h't d'm!"

Just then, Private's phone began to buzz. Checking caller id, he saw who it was. "Uncle Nigel!"

"Who?" Skipper asked, annoyed.

"My uncle! I haven't seen him since…" Private's voice faded, and they all realized what he was referring to. "Should I answer it?" he asked softly, "And if I do, what should I say?"

"Yes, and tell him the truth. We're behind you 100%." Skipper said.

Private, then answered the phone. "Uncle Nigel? It's me. I-It's Private."

They heard a voice reply, but it was too difficult to understand. "What happened to me? I think the rest of the team will have to answer that with me. It's a long story. Let me put the phone on speaker."

**I have finished! This chapter… This is gonna take a while… Oh, well. Once again, review if you want me to continue with the story!**

**~West189**


	2. A Place Called Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story. They belong to Nickelodeon and DreamWorks. Unless, of course, I explicitly say that I made up the character or fleshed out what was merely mentioned.**

Winds of Change

_By West189_

Chapter 1: A Place Called Home

"Where should I start?" Private wondered aloud. "It's not as if there was a definite beginning to everything…" He glanced around at the others. "We may as well get comfortable. It's a long story, and I doubt that we'll be getting sleep any time soon." Kowalski looked slightly horrified at that, Rico sat down, and Skipper leaned against the wall to Private's left before crossing his arms and nodding for the younger to continue.

Private took in a deep breath before slowly releasing. "I suppose that the story really began on July 16… My 20th birthday." He looked around for a moment until his eyes finally landed on the phone in his hand. "There was nothing particularly special about that morning; although, in hindsight, I should have known something was wrong when the neighbor's dog didn't bark at me after I fed it…"

*Start Flashback*

Private quickly unlocked the door. He had to feed his neighbor's dog, Floof, since the owner was going to be London visiting her sick niece until the following Thursday. Fortunately, this was the last day he was supposed to be looking after the pup. Private didn't particularly enjoy this task, but his neighbor was an old lady who always asked how he was doing, which meant he felt obliged to help out if necessary.

Upon entering the apartment, he noticed nothing unusual, except that Floof wasn't barking even though he usually did as he hid if someone unfamiliar came over. Dismissing this, Private walked in and closed the door behind him. He then walked into the kitchen, picked up the dog's water bowl and proceeded to rinse it out and fill it with fresh water before placing it back onto the ground. Next Private took the dog food out of the cupboard and filled the food bowl. Once this task was done, he replaced the dog food. The continued lack of the dog still nagged at him, but he once again shrugged it off and finally left.

Unbeknownst to Private, Floof was resting softly on his owner's bed, a dark green tranquilizer dart still embedded in the pup's back.

*Interrupt Flashback*

"I still don't know how you snuck into a secure apartment filled with people at all hours and managed to tranquilize a large puppy, all without getting caught by anyone!" Private's exclamation brought smirks to his friends' faces.

"That, Private, is classified information. Ask me again when you're a Corporal." Skipper replied nonchalantly. "Besides, if you knew, you wouldn't have to learn on the job like the rest of us did."

"I'm still not sure if we executed that properly. I don't think we were supposed to leave the tranquilizer dart behind…" Kowalski pulled out his clipboard and flipped towards the last few pieces of paper. His eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated what it said.

"'ell?" Rico asked eagerly. "'e di'n't muss up! Di' 'e?" Rico's head tilted as he asked the second question, waiting for the answer.

"It appears," said Kowalski, "that I need to work on my handwriting. I can't read anything I wrote." At hearing this, Rico and Skipper face-palmed, and Kowalski muttered a soft apology.

"Well, back to the story…" Private murmured. "After I left my neighbor's flat, I returned to my own, only to see an eviction notice taped to the front."

*Returning to Flashback*

Private stared at his door in disbelief. There, right in front of him, was an eviction notice, giving him an hour to get all of his stuff out. He didn't care about the limited time period; he kept his most important possessions in a small bag that he carried with him wherever he went. What worried him was the fact that he had paid his rent for three weeks earlier that day. This was the third time in four months that this had happened. The first time had been because of a seizure by eminent domain. The second was because the owner of the flat had suddenly decided to sell. Private wasn't planning on sticking around to find out what was going on this time.

He quickly ran unlocked his flat and ran into it. He headed straight to the bathroom closet. Once he got there, Private threw the door open and quickly grabbed his always ready bug-out bag and quickly left the flat. The only times he stopped on the way out of the building were to give his neighbor's key to the next volunteer and to return his own key to the land lord.

Upon exiting the building, Private slowed to a walk, so he could think about his situation. He had recently quit his job as a factory worker. After the weeks of extensive travelling in the wilderness, he had thought settling down would be good for him, but he'd begun to miss sleeping with the stars overhead. No one was surprised when Private turned in his two weeks' notice.

He'd always been a bit of a nomad, but every once in a while, he did try to settle down. Eventually, though, he'd leave. He had no ties to bind him anywhere, and as much as he desperately wanted one, he had no home, either. As a child, his family was always moving from place to place, never staying anywhere for more than a few weeks. After leaving his family on his 17th birthday, this behavior was the one thing he knew how to do with any success. When he'd heard about the death of his parents two weeks later, he couldn't even think of where they would have wanted to be buried. That was really what caused him to continue to travel, despite his original intentions of finding a home.

"Maybe I will… Someday." Private's voice was soft and sad. The lyrics of an American song he'd heard by chance ran through his head. _Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow and dream of a place called home…_ The young Briton sighed. _I don't care if there's snow and rain. I just want to stop running. _This last thought caused him to pause. Shaking his head slightly, he had to admit that he really was running, but from what, he didn't know.

Looking up, he noticed he had made it to the last train station left in the town. It was an old, worn-down building with once red bricks turned to grey and concrete steps crumbling to nothing. The image did nothing to boost his low spirits. Somehow the station was still running, despite its outward appearance. Climbing the steps, he took care to care not to put too much weight on one foot at any time. He entered the building, and slowly approached the ticket counter.

The man behind it was tall, and almost had to crane his neck to look at Private who was quite short for a male his age. "Where are you headed?" asked the man, but something about him caught Private off guard.

"You're American!" he exclaimed in shock. "What's an American doing in a small English town such as this?" He couldn't help his excitement. He'd never been outside the United Kingdom, and even then, the furthest from England he'd ever been was when his parents took him to visit his uncle in Cardiff, Wales.

The other scoffed at Private. "I happen to be Polish. I acquired this accent from years of living in the United States of America. As for what I'm doing here? I'm selling train tickets. Now, I'll ask again. Where are you headed?" He said all of this in a slightly superior way, as if Private was beneath him. He also stared right at the younger, and the piercing glare from the Pole's light blue eyes caused him to reconsider taking the train.

"Ummm… I was just going to take a train to Halifax, but I think I'll just ask a friend for a lift…" Private had begun to back away slowly, and once he'd completed his sentence, he swiftly turned around and tried to run. He did not expect to crash into a large, well-built man, and he ended up on the ground, staring up at the one who caused his fall.

"Now, where maght ya'll be goin' in such a rush?" He asked in an American Southern accent, as he slowly lifted Private by his collar until the Briton's legs were dangling, and he was at eye-level with the American. "Nowhere, right?" the tall man asked quietly. All Private could do was nod vigorously in agreement. "Good." He grinned. His dark grey eye surveyed the captive. "Skippa' was right. 'Don' judge bah appearances.' He said. I neva' woulda' expected such a cute gal—"

"I'm a bloke, you dolt!" Private interrupted with a cry of indignation. His outburst seemed to give him the courage to stop struggling against the other's grip.

"I advise you to stop struggling. Johnson, here, enjoys making prisoners end their opposition." Private recognized the voice of the ticket seller. "Also, hold still." The voice was getting closer, and Private had stopped struggling. As soon as he did so, however, he felt a pinch in the back of his neck, and he slumped over unconscious.

*End Flashback*

"That's all I know for this part. Does anyone else want to take over now? I really would like to know what happens next!" Private looked hopefully at Kowalski, who sighed and removed his glasses to clean them on his shirt.

He didn't speak until he'd replaced them onto his face. "I can see that I don't have a choice here."

"Nuh-uh! Teh stoh-ee!" Rico was excited. He'd only known his own part to play in all of this. He couldn't wait to hear the story in its entirety, but first… "Snack break!" After exclaiming this, he jumped up, and walked over to one of the tables that still had some food left from when their guests were there. He quickly grabbed some cake for himself and got a piece of pie for Private.

"Thanks, Rico! I hadn't even realized there was any food! Go ahead with your story, Kowalski. We can keep our food noises to a minimum, I swear!" Private glanced eagerly at his pie, then up to Kowalski.

"That sounds like a plan to me. Kowalski, you can eat after sharing your bit of information, and the rest of us can chow down!" Skipper said this as he moved to get himself some nachos.

"Very well. If everyone is set to eat without me, I'll go ahead with my part." Kowalski didn't really mind. He'd already eaten his fill when the guests were present, and he didn't want to imbalance his eating schedule. "After, knocking you out, Private, I had the pleasure of watching and documenting your inert form while Johnson called for the others…"

*Kowalski's Flashback*

_This makes no sense,_ Kowalski thought. _Why would we be sent to catch a spy from another country, especially when we don't even know who the spy is… I expect things will become clear with time, but I worry about what will happen in the meantime. I better start gathering the kid's information._

Kowalski pulled out his clipboard and made careful notes instead of his usual sloppy ones. Skipper would not take it well, if he had to get this data from the boy himself. He spoke quietly to himself as he worked. "The subject appears to be around 18 years of age, but I assume that he is older than he looks. Height: 5.3 feet. Weight: Approximately 115 lbs. Hair color: Black. Eye Color:…" Kowalski paused before slowly leaning over to open the boy's eyes. He did so carefully; unsure of what he had seen when he'd stared at him. "E-eye Color: Ice Blue."

He was uneasy. An uncommon and mostly unnatural eye color often meant that the owner of those eyes was most likely a meta-human of some sort. That explained why they were in a foreign country, but that still didn't explain why they were after this spy in particular. Skipper was refusing to let out any information, which was odd since Skipper usually asked Kowalski's opinion before sending the lot of them out on a mission. He was, after all, the team's strategist, yet he had received no indication of anything wrong before the sudden announcement that they were going to England to pursue a rogue spy.

Judging from what he'd seen over the last few months, this short Briton wasn't spy material; although, if he really was a meta-human, he may have some type of super power that hid his doings from any curious eyes. There was no way of knowing what it was without a specific test or seeing the super power in action. Kowalski himself was a meta, albeit his power wasn't physical. The eye color difference was usually only present in those with powers that could physically do something to the surrounding environment.

Rico was a good example. His eyes were a bright, almost glowing, blue-green, and he was capable of creating and controlling fire. He also had a pocket dimension inside of his stomach, allowing him to store anything he wanted by simply swallowing it. Kowalski was still unsure of how Rico fit everything down his throat.

"Kuhwalski, ya'll done with yur documentash'n? Skippa' says we gotta get gone before the real ticket salesman wakes up!" Johnson's loud voice shook him out of his reverie. The other didn't give Kowalski a chance to reply before he swung the young lad onto his shoulder and started moving to the hologram of the stationary train.

Kowalski quickly turned the image off, and the two jumped onto their hidden vehicle. He checked all the systems before turning the ignition on and hitting the accelerator. Johnson plopped the boy down and took a seat up front next to Kowalski. The vehicle wasn't a fancy machine. The format was very similar to what you would expect in a boat you'd drive on the lake. The main difference was the driving area being further in the front with a lounging area in the back. Another was the fact that Kowalski's invention hovered and had a flat bottom.

"Are you sure you should be up here with me and not watching the kid?" Kowalski asked. "You didn't even tie him up!" The scientist was watching what was happening in a rear-view mirror.

"Why would Ah need tah? Like ya'll said, he's a kid. It's not like there's anywhere for him tah run tah! Besides, we've got his bag a' stuff!" Johnson leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on the dashboard. "What's more, we're goin' 30 miles pah hour over a forest. It'd be suahcide tah jump outta here!"

"Really?" Kowalski replied. "Why don't you take a look at the kid, right now?"

"Fine! Ah will!" Pause. "Sh*t! Why didn't you say nothing?" Johnson shouted at Kowalski furiously, for what Johnson saw when he turned around was the kid squatting on the edge of the vehicle looking down. And when the kid saw Johnson looking at him, he gave a big grin and a cheeky wave before jumping out of sight.

**First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed my story! I have decided that, until further notice, I am continuing with the story! This does not mean, however, that you should stop reviewing. Reviews are my bread and butter. They keep me motivated!**

**~West189**


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story. They belong to Nickelodeon and DreamWorks. Unless, of course, I explicitly say that I made up the character or fleshed out what was merely mentioned.**

**I am answering reviews up here since I don't want to spoil the ending of this chapter by having more words at the end. **

**_J. W. Turner_ : If you think Johnson being Southern was odd, wait until you read about Manfredi!**

**_AlwaysRemainMe_: I hope to update at least once a week. This is barring unforeseen circumstances and summer camp, of course.**

**_theColumbianCrusade_: To answer your question, this will all be done in flashback format, but that doesn't mean there won't be any missions. If there are, they just won't be current. Be on the lookout for my holiday specials, though! I agree with your comment about Kowalski. I was actually going for that! Good to know I'm getting everyone's personalities correct, as well! As for grammar, I just do my best. If you find anything in particular, I'll be sure to correct it!**

**Karenkook: Johnson never was one to do the logical thing.**

Winds of Change

_By West189_

Chapter 2: Down the Rabbit Hole

*Continuing Kowalski's Flashback*

"I would have said something, but we both know you wouldn't have been able to get to him in time even if I had." Kowalski didn't bother looking at Johnson. "At least this way you're off the hook. You'd be kicked off the team for letting a prisoner to escape."

Johnson snorted. "What's gonna stop Skippa' from firin' you?" He had returned to his previous laid back position.

"I placed a tracker on him when I got his information." Kowalski sent his friend a sidelong glance. Johnson used to work for their enemy, Dr. Blowhole, but turned out to merely be a double-agent for the side of the angels. It had taken some time for anyone to fully trust him, but after he pushed Manfredi out of the way of a throwing knife at the near expense of his life, Johnson earned the respect and trust of the entire team. Recently, however, he'd been acting differently than normal. Kowalski couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but something was off. Whatever that something was, it worried him.

"Ah'll drive fer a while now. Ya'll can go ahead and give Skippa' an update." Johnson glared at Kowalski until he stood up to let Johnson drive. "Smart move, Smarty." Johnson practically growled the last part. Kowalski pulled out his clipboard and began to scribble down notes without saying anything. He wrote neatly but in Polish, so no one would be able to read what he wrote except for him.

Once he finished this, Kowalski sat down in the passenger seat and turned on the video phone. He then put on the headphone/ microphone set that was in the glove compartment. He had spent a few minutes trying to find it in all the clutter, and Manfredi had called him during the search. He quickly answered the machine. "Hello Manfredi. Do you need something?"

On the screen was Manfredi. She was the only woman on the team and was definitely the most attractive female in the area they lived. A few strands of brunette hair blew across her face. Kowalski assumed the rest was tied back in a simple pony tail. Her eyes were an unnatural amber color, giving away her status as a meta-human. She appraised him before replying. "Skipper wants to if you and Johnson need any help. I've got ten bucks saying the kid wet himself. Skipper has fifty on him escaping, and Rico decided not to bet against Skipper on this one, the wuss."

Kowalski took off his glasses to clean before he replied. "Tell Skipper that we don't need any help." He wasn't going to give away anything else unless prompted.

"So, who won the bet?" Manfredi just watched him as if he were her prey.

"Skipper, but tell him that I placed a tracker on the boy." Kowalski hung up the phone before Manfredi could yell at him, or worse, get Skipper to yell at him. "That went better than expected." Kowalski leaned back in the chair and ripped the headphones off. "I hope that we won't be here for much longer."

"Ah hear ya. This country is too uptight fer mah tastes." Johnson moaned. "Ya'll want tah drive again? Ah think Ah need a nap." He stretched himself out and got up, not giving Kowalski a choice.

Kowalski rushed over, tripping when he tried to run out of his seat. The hover craft had begun to face down, and it was currently hurtling them down toward the treetops at 35 mph and climbing. Kowalski was able to pull up just in time for them to crash into a tall evergreen. He had just enough time to do a facepalm before he started falling from the craft. _I'm killing Johnson if we survive this, _he thought as he fell. _Well, maybe not kill him. At the very least I'll make his life miserable. _He paused his thoughts in time to grab a passing tree branch with his left hand.

The branch held for a second before breaking. Kowalski's descent had slowed enough that the next branch he reached held his weight without breaking. _Good thing my left hand and forearm are bionic. This would have gotten messy, otherwise. _

Kowalski spent the next few hours climbing down from the tree he was in. He had to fall the last ten feet, and he injured his right ankle on the landing. He cursed silently as he examined himself. The ankle was mildly sprained, but that was still bad news since he was alone in the middle of a forest with the only useful technology being his left arm from the elbow down.

_Options, Kowalski, options! Only three seem to be viable: 1) Wait here for someone to find me, 2) look for Johnson, and 3) look for the boy. Since I'm injured I'll need help that I can't get without Johnson, but due to my injury I won't—._ Kowalski's thoughts were interrupted by a resounding thud, and the scientist slumped down to the ground, blissfully unaware of what was going on around him.

*End Kowalski's Flashback*

Kowalski's narration was met with dead silence. Unsurprisingly, it was broken by Rico. "'ou think too much." At this they all burst out into laughter, except Kowalski.

"He- He's got a point, K-Kowalski!" Private said between gasps of breath. "You do have a bit of a tendency to overthink everything!"

Kowalski crossed his arms and turned up his nose at them. "You people just don't appreciate my thorough perspective! Anyway, Private, it's back to you. I doubt Skipper and Rico were doing anything interesting while they were waiting for me."

"Not really. I was just catching up on some paperwork, and Rico was playing cards with Manfredi." Skipper said. "So, Private, tell us how you survived that fall!"

"Well, I was a bit disoriented after I woke up…"

*Private's Flashback has returned!*

Private shook his head slightly to rid himself of the small pain in his neck. The man named Johnson was walking up to the front of whatever machine they were in. He slowly sat up and glanced around for his bug-out bag. The sight of it being held by Johnson filled him with dismay; the bag held everything he needed to survive in a forest. _I'll just have to do without…_ His own mind voice sounded doubtful about that.

He stood shakily and made his way over to the side of the, for lack of a better term, sky-boat. Private looked over the side and immediately wished he hadn't. They were about 40 meters in the air and moving at a speed he could tell would kill him if they crashed into something. He glanced back up front and saw the Polish man looking at him in a mirror. Private looked back down and made a decision.

He climbed onto the side and had to keep a firm grip to avoid being blown away by the turbulence around the sky-boat. He took one final look at the duo that had tried to kidnap them, saw Johnson looking at him, gave Johnson a cheeky grin for the trouble he'd put him through, and jumped.

Private spread his limbs into eagle formation to slow his descent. When he reached the tree line, he crashed through the top branches. These slowed him down enough for him not to die went he hit the strong bottom branches of the trees. He finally landed on the ground a few minutes later. Private could already feel that he had some fractured or broken ribs, a cut in his right calf, and an injured arm. _Lucky I heal quickly! If not, I'd be dead. I should probably head east. I know there's a small town in that direction. It'll most likely take a day or two to get there on foot. Good thing badgers don't live around here!_

On his 7th birthday, Private's parents had taken him into the woods for the first time in his life, and he'd accidentally gotten lost. While out on his own, he'd wandered into the territory of a large group of badgers. His parents found him asleep in a tree and covered in claw and bite marks the following morning. Ever since Private had been deathly afraid of badgers of any species.

Private slowly made his way into the direction he believed was east. After about four hours, he found a clearing with a tall evergreen in the center. A few steps in he almost tripped, but Private caught himself in time. He looked down to find the cause and was shocked to see his bug-out bag. Before rushing to open it and get water, he slowly surveyed the area. First he did a slow panoramic view with random turnabouts to make sure nothing was behind him. After doing this for a few minutes, he changed to his peripheral vision since that was better for catching movement. The last check he did was he narrowing of his vision to look at the small details.

The last check created within him a great feeling of unease, despite his peaceful surroundings, for a mere three meters away lay the body of the Polish ticket salesman who had an American accent. Private carefully picked up his bag and cautiously made his way over to the unmoving man. Luckily, Private checked for a pulse in the right wrist, instead of the left. Private checked him for any signs of consciousness or injury. He found the other man had a mildly sprained ankle that had begun to swell immensely and a slight concussion.

Private didn't find any other injuries, so he kneeled down by the hurt ankle and held his hands about an inch above it. _What am I doing? He was trying to kidnap me! I should just leave him, but… He let me escape without alerting that Johnson fellow… _"Why do I have to be so nice?" Private asked aloud to no one in particular. He then activated his special ability. His hands glowed yellow which illuminated the darkening forest with a beautiful dim light. Private watched as the would-be kidnapper's ankle returned to its natural, uninjured form.

The feedback from the healing stabbed painfully in his own ankle for a few seconds before subsiding. Another thirty seconds later, and Private felt his hurt ribs knitting together. They didn't heal completely, but it was still better than nothing. He stood and gasped as an aftershock of the ankle hit him. Private waited for the pain to die down before continuing the healing process on the concussed head.

This time, however, the light was far brighter and lit the clearing as if it were daylight. Private fell backwards as the pain hit him. He was still in some slight pain as his ribs and his torn calf fully healed themselves. He tried sitting up, but the pain intensified and restarted in his ankle. Private heard someone yawn and stretch. The Briton managed to sit up at the exact same time as the Pole, and they stared each other in the eyes.

The Polish man's eyes flicked toward his bare foot, the boot lying about a foot away, and back up to Private. He flexed his ankle slowly, and his eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "You're a healer." It wasn't a question. "You helped me after I tried to kidnap you. Why?" Private would have thought him disinterested if not for the 'you're an idiot' look he was receiving.

He was tentative in his reply. Private knew that if it came down to a straight, one-on-one fight, he would lose. "I owed you for letting me go without telling Johnson… Besides… I couldn't have just left you there to die—"

"My only injury was a mildly sprained ankle!" snapped Kowalski. "That wasn't a mortal injury the last time I checked!"

"You also had a minor concussion. That's why you were unconscious…" Private was trying to position himself in a way that would allow him to escape if the other made any sudden movements against him. "There are a lot of hungry animals around here that would love to snack on an unconscious person."

"I suppose it is possible… Also, you can stop inching away from me. I'm not going to hurt you. You've already done that by healing me." The Pole got into a cross-legged sitting position after putting on his boot.

"What do you mean?" Private asked as he followed suit. He was now really interested. This stranger seemed to know something about Private's ability.

"You don't know, do you?" The tall man looked at him for with something that Private believed was akin to either pity or sympathy. He preferred sympathy.

*Pause Flashback*

"So which was it, Kowalski?" Private asked, startling the other out of his reverie.

"Hm? Oh, it was a mix of the two. I didn't know you well enough to realize you didn't need any pity."

"Oh…"

"Ba' ta' sto'ee!" Rico interrupted angrily.

"Alright, alright!"

*Play Flashback*

"We may as well introduce ourselves properly. You can call me Kowalski. What would your name be?" The look had vanished as soon as Kowalski continued speaking.

"The only name that matters would be Private. It's what I've been called since I was little. I don't think I would even remember my real name if not for my passport.." Private mused. He looked up at the sky. A thought occurred to him. "What did you mean when you said I'd already hurt myself by healing you?"

Kowalski sighed. "It is a fact of being a healer. When you heal someone, you temporarily take on a fraction of the other person's injuries. However, you also take on the full amount of pain from the person. Despite being partially healed yourself, the pain stays and sometimes intensifies if you continue to heal further injuries."

"Is that why I can't heal myself, then?" Private asked as he began to unzip his bug-out bag.

"Yes. It would be. I do hope you know that I am sorry for this." Kowalski answered. He was now looking at Private guiltily. This caused alarm bells to go off in the younger's head.

"Sorry for wha—" Private's question was answered before he'd even finished it. A tranquilizer dart was embedded in the dirt an inch away from his hand. He took one last look at Kowalski who was just sitting there looking at the ground, before jumping up and bolting into the forest, trying his hardest to ignore the pain in his ankle and head. It was almost too much, and he ended up tripping into a stream facedown.

When he was down, a loud crack rang out, and Private felt a sharp sting in his neck. As he slowly lost consciousness, Private's vision blurred, and gentle but firm hands carefully lifted him out of the water, turned him to face the sky, and carefully held him. The image of two burning, sapphire colored eyes embedded itself in Private's mind as he finally let go of the waking world.


	4. Can't Go Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story. They belong to Nickelodeon and DreamWorks. Unless, of course, I explicitly say that I made up the character or fleshed out what was merely mentioned.**

**Apologies for the late update. I have recently rediscovered **_**The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy **_**Series as well as **_**Eat, Pray, Love**_**, also the rediscovery of **_**Forefly**_** and **_**Sherlock.**_** Then I had camp… I am also a lazy bum, but I will finish this story, even if it kills me, but don't quote me on that…**

_**Karenkook:**_** I can't agree more, although you have to admit, Kowalski has a great singing voice as evidenced by **_**Concrete Jungle**_** and the second Dr. Blowhole special. **

_**J.W. Turner:**_** Yes. Yes she is. Also, a meta-human is basically the term to describe people with superpowers. Not aliens with super powers, but people born on Earth who, for some reason or another, have superpowers. This is a **_**DC Comics**_** term. An equivalent saying would be mutant.**

_**Lovepaw and Silverpaw:**_** They'll be back…. **

_Attention: You may have not read the previous chapter which contains vital information regarding Private. _

Winds of Change

_By West189_

Chapter 3: Can't Go Home

*End Private's Flashback*

"Do you always pass out at the end of your story parts?" Skipper asked in exasperation.

"I'm not sure… I probably do though." replied Private. "But why do I always get hit in the neck? I'd much rather it be my shoulder that gets injured."

"The neck has many nerves which can be used for paralyzing foes or knocking them unconscious. It also contains a major artery and a major vein. These allow for injected chemicals to quickly pass through the subject's heart into the rest of the circulatory system." Kowalski explained automatically.

"Ummm… That was a rhetorical question, Kowalski."

"Oh."

"'oo talk nex'?" squawked Rico excitedly. He had patiently waited the thirty seconds it took for the other three to talk. Now he wanted to hurry up and get on with the story.

"Skippah, it's your turn to speak, isn't it? I mean Kowalski and I have said everything useful or important that we know up to this point. Since Rico can't really enunciate and articulate what was happening, that leaves you." Private had tilting his head as he worked this out aloud.

"Who says you need to enunciate or articulate to be understood? Don't answer that, Kowalski." Skipper glanced at the scientist whose mouth had opened and then closed, his cheeks beginning to flush. "Alright Rico. You're up to speak!"

Rico grinned maniacally before starting his tale. "I 'as playin' Texa' Hol' 'Em whe' Joh'so' call…"

*Rico's Flashback*

Manfredi glanced down at her cards with a smirk on her face. Rico just stared at the cards on the table. In the background they could here Skipper shuffling papers every now and then. The two players were at a stand-off. It was time for them to lay down their cards, but Manfredi had left Rico waiting. Among the community cards were a 2 of Hearts, a 4 of diamonds, a 10 of Spades, a Jack of Spades, and a Queen of Spades. At last she showed her hand. "Straight Flush, Rico." The cards Manfredi had set down were an 8 and a 9 of Spades.

Rico grinned evilly and laid his cards down. "Royal Flush, Manfredi." His grin grew when the female began to turn beet red out of anger.

"Rico, I am going to show you what my cousin did to Johnson only more slowly and more painfully." Rico stopped grinning.

Fortunately, he didn't learn what Manfredi's cousin had done to Johnson and never would, for precisely at that moment Johnson called with news. "What's your status, soldier?" Skipper asked urgently.

"Me an' Kowahlski have crashed into a' tree. Ah'm fine, but Ah don't know what happened tah Smarty." Johnson's voice sounded apathetic to this. "Mah bet is the runt you sent us after had something in that bag o' his that caused our floatin' boat tah go off-course."

"Speaking of the 'runt,' what was he like?" Rico stared at Skipper like he was a crazy person. Johnson had just said Kowalski was M.I.A.! They should have been going to find him.

"How should Ah know? Kowalski pretended tah be the ticket person, not me. All Ah know is that the kid is a cheeky devil. The boy did have the instinct tah trah an' run when Kowahlski was trahin' to sell the ticket." Johnson began to sound annoyed at this line of questioning.

"What's his eye color? The boy's, not Kowalski's. And tell me his name if you know it. Not the one that would be listed on an official license or document. The one he goes by." Skipper was getting intense; his sapphire eyes were lit up with a passion that Rico couldn't explain.

"Ah don' know the name you're talkin' 'bout, but Ah overheard Kowahlski sayin' the eye color was ice blue, which ain't a natural eye color, an' Ah don' need tah tell ya what that means."

"No. No one does." Skipper had closed his eyes. "Where are you? We'll grab you and start our search for Kowalski."

"You should be able tah trace mah sig—" Whomp. Pause. Thud. "Signal. Sorry 'bout that. Some animal snuck up on me. "Jus' follah' the signal tah me." With that Johnson hung up, and the connection ended.

"Skipper, why on Earth were you asking so many pointless questions? We need to find Smarty! The lab rat won't last a week in a forest on his own!" Manfredi ranted angrily.

This caused Skipper to look at her furiously. Despite Manfredi being taller, Skipper somehow managed to tower over her. His voice was low and quiet, and all background noise had stopped. "In case you had forgotten, Manfredi, Kowalski has been on this team for years longer than you have. He knows full well how to survive alone in a small forest for a good deal longer than a week. As for my questions, that is classified information, soldier."

Rico was fighting to suppress the shudders of fear he got from Skipper, and he wasn't even the one who had spoken out. Manfredi, however, refused to back down. "Classified? CLASSIFIED? I'm your first mate! You can't say something is classified to me!" Manfredi had stepped forward and was now trying to get the upper hand.

Rico knew what Skipper was going to do next, so only Manfredi was surprised when Skipper's hand went out and slapped her across the face. Everyone had frozen. Rico was standing back looking uncomfortable, Skipper was watching Manfredi with narrowed eyes, and Manfredi had her hand pressed to where she had been slapped.

"Sorry, Skipper. You know how it is…" Manfredi bowed her head in guilt.

"It's okay, soldier. Just don't do it again." Skipper was now smiling at her. "Rico, you're on look-out. If anything comes, shoot it with the tranq-gun. We don't want to hurt anyone. Manfredi, you drive. I'll watch the signal."

They all moved to get the required equipment. A thought struck Rico. "Skipper, what do I do if I see the kid we're after? Is this recovery, kill, or injure?" While Skipper was turning to reply, Rico vomited up his tranquilizer.

"Recovery though injure is not out of the question. I want him as intact as possible. He's no use if he's maimed, dying, or dead." Skipper looked contemplative for a moment before grimacing.

"Something wrong, Skipper? You've been acting strangely since we left New York." Rico said worriedly.

"He's probably just thinking about how to tell his fiancé that he wants to break up." Manfredi earned a glare. "Sorry, but it's true… and not at all what you're thinking about. Come to think of it you were even acting wonky before giving us the info for the mission, which is next to none."

Skipper just shook his head and got into the passenger seat of their pink car. "The real mystery is how I ever agreed to getting this ridiculous car."

"You're the one who said, and I quote, 'the more you try to stand out, the more you blend in, and visa versa.'" Rico responded.

The drive to the forest from their hide-out to the forest took about an hour-and-a-half. They spent another two hours trekking through the forest. "Johnson sure knows how to get lost." Manfredi began. "Shame that the one time we don't want him to, he does."

_They really need to get over their hate/love relationship,_ Rico thought. _Of course, the world would probably explode if that happened. Hey! That would look really amazing on canvas. Maybe in the style of Van Gogh…? _

Neither Skipper nor Rico commented on Manfredi's outburst. Skipper did, however, grab Manfredi into a headlock. Before she could make a protest, he slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle any noise. Rico stared at him questioningly. Skipper jerked his head to the left and ahead of them. Rico could barely make out a small figure moving slowly in the direction they themselves had been heading.

Rico raised his tranq-gun, but Skipper shook his head. A second later he released Manfredi. After waiting for the figure to get out of earshot, Skipper whispered his orders. "Rico, if he deviates from the direction we're going, follow him. Manfredi, you stay on track of the signal. Move out."

The three of them stalked the boy, who seemed to be going to the same place they were. After another twenty-five minutes, the boy entered a clearing. Skipper gave the signal for them to hide. Once he was behind a tree, Rico watched as his leader pulled out a motorcycle mirror, so he could watch what their quarry was doing.

Just as Rico began to relax, a small burst of light caught him off guard. It was followed a minute later by a dazzling burst of light. Rico could only watch Skipper with anticipation. He seemed to be waiting for something. A few minutes later, Rico saw the signal to attack. He slowly stood up and carefully made his way into the clearing. The first thing he saw was the wreckage of the Skyboat. Next he saw Kowalski talking with the one they pursuing.

Kowalski glanced up, and their eyes locked if only for a second. As Rico raised his tranq-gun to shoot, he almost didn't catch the look of guilt that crossed the scientist's face. This shocked the maniac enough to cause him to barely miss the boy. He was up and running before Rico could even blink. Once he had registered that he had missed and that the boy was now running, Rico immediately raced after him.

He didn't get a chance to shoot until the boy tripped and landed face down in a stream. Rico hit the mark this time. A dart with an ice blue tail stuck out of the boy's jugular. He grinned until he was forcefully pushed out of the way. When he looked up, he saw Skipper holding the boy out of the water. Rico said nothing as his leader gently lifted their focus of over four months' work and carried him back to the clearing.

Upon arrival, they could see Kowalski looking through a black and white Army backpack. Manfredi was leaning against the large tree in the center of the clearing as she watched the scientist. Rico noticed that Johnson had finally turned up and was pacing a few feet away from Kowalski.

"Looks like the gang's finally together! Now will you tell us why we came to this rainy country in the first place?" Manfredi asked, her voice sounding annoyed. Skipper glared at her and she quickly closed her mouth, which had opened to make a most likely cynical statement.

"Kowalski, have you learned what the kid's power is?" Skipper's voice was sharp and got across his unhappy sentiments.

"He's a healer. He has very limited strength in this power, but he is still young and with the proper training, he could easily become strong enough to heal mortal injuries with minimal damage to himself. However, he barely knows anything about his abilities, which will likely cause him to avoid their use." Kowalski hadn't stopped looking through the bag.

"Did he give you a name?" Skipper was unusually curious about this.

The scientist sighed before speaking. "He told me that the only name that matters is Private. He said something about a passport, but I can't seem to find it anywhere in his bag."

Skipper's eyes glimmered for a second, but Rico was almost certain he imagined it. Almost.

"So, Skippa', whatta ya'll want the kid fer, anyway? Ah refuse tah believe that a kid that small 'n' inn'cent is any sorta' threat tah us." Johnson had stopped pacing and was now glaring at Skipper angrily.

The innocent remark caused Rico to blink. _Sure, he's young, but innocent? That's a bit of a stretch, coming from Johnson… Oh._ His thoughts had made Rico take a real look at the person that Skipper was holding in his arms. Despite months of constant surveillance, Rico had never really _looked_ at Private, and what he saw was a shock.

He was small, there was no denying that. He was also pale, extremely so. His, lips were bright red, however. His unkempt black hair created a stark contrast to his skin. He was thin and wore a solid white, short-sleeved t-shirt. He had on black shorts and shoes that were ill-suited for running around a forest. Despite being thin, Rico could tell that Private had at least some upper body strength but not enough. There were some scuffs on his clothes and face, and it appeared that a bruise was beginning to form on his left cheek. The boy's arms were lying across his stomach, his face turned away from Skipper, and mouth slightly open. He looked as if he were sleeping.

Then, Private slowly opened his ice blue eyes, and all hell broke loose.

*End Rico's Flashback*


End file.
